


Checking Out John

by arlenejp



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M, Mycroft fingering John, explicit wording
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-08 06:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12859116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: Does John meet Mycroft's standards for Sherlocks sex experiment





	Checking Out John

**Author's Note:**

> I can picture Mycroft doing this with any person Sherlock had decided to be with, male or female.

I'm getting out of the clinic early. Last night I worked the late shift, so right now I'm looking for a light meal and sleep.

* * *

I text Sherlock that I'll be home, no need to worry about food. There are leftovers in the frig.

* * *

Standing in front of a black car, door open is Mycroft's driver.

I've been living for two months with Sherlock and have gotten used to being abducted by Sherlock's older brother. No use in trying to get away. He'll only follow, the car driving slowly, next to me, everyone on the street looking, noticing. Instead of making a fool of myself it's easier to slide into the seat and see what the elder Holmes wants now.

Getting into the vehicle it takes off and I look to this emotionless, always composed man in his three-piece, this time pinstripe gray suit. Umbrella always in hand.

          "What now Mycroft?" putting on my most exasperating look.

Not a word, not a sound, and I know not to question further.

All I'll get is this silence.

When he's good and ready his mouth will open.

We pull up at Barts Hospital, and my heart races.

          "Is Sherlock-? I anxiously ask as he interrupts me.

          "He's fine-for once. Follow me."

* * *

We walk in, greetings from some of the staff meets me. I'm well-known here both as a doctor and as Sherlock Holmes partner.

Crime solving partner.

Upstairs and into a hospital room, the bed empty, all made up and ready for a patient.

          "What in the world-?" questioning, glancing around.

Mycroft sheds his jacket and loosens his tie.

          "Dr. Watson, remove your lower clothing. Place it on the chair and situate yourself on the bed."

          "Huh?" I huff,"wait, why?"

          "Dr. Watson, I do not repeat myself," in his best commanding voice,"remove the garments. Now!"

Rolling up his sleeves he faces me, eyes drawn into slits.

          "John Watson, sometime in the next days your flatmate, my brother, will be carrying out his sex experiment. I'm effectively making sure he's not disillusioned again."

          "Sex experiment?" puzzled, and all of a sudden it becomes apparent.

Taking a huge breath in,"you mean on me?"

My finger pointing to my chest, my brows turning upwards, eyes wide in astonishment.

Mycroft, stretching blue rubber latex gloves onto his hands, smirks.

          "That's right, John. Let's make this quick. I have more pressing transactions to take care of."

          "No, he's not experimenting with me on that subject. On that, I draw the line." flashing a glowering look and dashing to the door.

Mycroft's arms swing around me, holding his gloved hands away from my clothing. He hauls and drags me to the bed.

* * *

          "Do I call in staff to restrict you or do you cooperate?"

          "You fuck, you asshole."

          "Call me whatever vile words you want. We can accomplish this quickly, or I can have you sedated."

Looking down his nose as he declared this statement with no uncertainty, I acquiesce and remove my trousers and pants, sitting still on the bed, wondering what he's going to do.

* * *

          "Lie down on your back and spread open your legs."

          "Mycroft, at least something to cover me?"

His shoulders hunching as if ready to do something drastic I lay down and position myself with my legs outstretched, feeling foolish, modest and resentful.

* * *

          "You shave your pubic hair as most European men do and take care to use cream to soften the skin."

My cock is lying still, flat on my stomach and Mycroft eyes it. It bounces, twitches with his intense gaze.

          "Nice size, above average. Ten centimeters length, nine point four two centimeters width while flaccid. Pinkish brown in color, circumcised, glans nicely rounded with the opening nicely defined."

          "Do you need to describe me in such detail and out loud?" my face heating up, turning pinkish.

He's scrutinizing my penis, his eyes roving over the whole of me.

* * *

He lifts, lightly squeezing, running over my glans as I swell up with his ministrations.

          "Shit, Mycroft, cut it out. This is offensive."

          "Come now, I know you've had encounters with other men. One in particular, if my files are valid. This should be entertaining for you, I expect." The man has the corners of his mouth quirked up, shaking his head. If I didn't know him better I would suspect he was enjoying this for his own amusement.

* * *

          "Good, good, now I want to see your erection." My cock is already full, twitching. I'm breathing in short bursts.

Placing my arm over my face, I can't watch.

          "Length is fourteen point two, twelve point two wide. Better than average."

My pre-come leaks, I buck up slightly, my arm going down to my side, glancing up to see what he's doing next.

His latex finger runs over the liquid, placing that finger on his tongue, tasting as he would a fine wine.

* * *

          "Aren't you writing this down for Sherlock to look over?" my irritability in my voice can't be contained. Along with my seething desire.

* * *

Ignoring my babbling he continues by pushing my cock up and to the side, one of my bollocks goes in his gloved hand, balancing and juggling it. "nineteen centimeters and strong."

* * *

By now my urge for a climax has grown, and it's taking all my determination not to fondle my cock.

          "If I place my hand on and around your penis, John, can you control your orgasm?"

Not trusting myself to speak I wave my hand as a signal to continue.

* * *

Taking the bottle of lube that was sitting on the table, he smears some on his gloved hand and girds my penis.

Pulling upward and downward in one continuous stroke, upwards and downwards at least three times that I can say. Because my body leans to him, breath tearing out of me, as he's assaulting my cock.

His hands move away.

* * *

          "Ease down, John, relax your body. Now turn around on your stomach."

As I do, I understand my cock will be rubbing against the sheet. I don't want to embarrass myself by squirting on it but this is getting worse by the minute, no the second.

* * *

I jump, feeling those gloves, one on each of my ass cheeks, spreading me wide.

          "Oh please, get this over with,"quivering, sinking into a sense of erotica, this man so clinical, detached, making it all the more sensual.

* * *

          "You've had anal sex I see."

How the hell does he know that?

          "Mycroft, that's enough," my voice slipping into gasps, as I try to sit up, he bumps me back down.

          "Examination of your rectum will take a moment and I will let you go."

* * *

Giving in I lie there, with every movement, every breath excruciatingly challenging. I'm not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me have an orgasm. I'm not!

The lube doled out I feel his fingers at my ass crack, slicking it up.

One finger moves in provoking a gulp of air in and out of my chest. Without any hesitation, he pushes in two fingers more. Giving a yell and pushing away from him he persists. I cope with the pain as his digits continue moving in my anus.

Between the scratchiness of the sheets and the thrusting of Mycroft's fingers in my hole, I convulse numerous times and detonate my come on the sheet and my stomach.

* * *

Mycroft slowly pulls out, tears his gloves off his hands, goes to the sink to wash up.

* * *

I lie there, humiliated.

          "Don't worry John, you did well. I would not have expected any man to hold off discharging an orgasm as long as you did."

Raising myself off the bed, "Did I pass your test, you mother-"

          "No need for that, all is well. You have my consent to allow his research to commence when he wishes."

          "Just like that, Jesus, you both think you own the world!"

          "Not quite, John, not quite. Come, get washed up and dressed and I'll have you taken home."

          "No thanks, I'll take a cab. I'm fed up with you."

That look he gives down his nose, suggesting he won't take a no.

          "Okay," I expel a sigh,"give me a moment."

* * *

Once in the car, not a word uttered, I leave without even looking at him.

* * *

At Baker Street, I enter the flat to see Sherlock lying on the sofa, hands steepled together at his jaw.

          "John? You've been with Mycroft. What did-"

Cutting him short," Don't ask, don't think, leave me alone. I'm not in the mood for your speculations."

Getting a glass, filling it with a large amount of whiskey I drink some and stride into the kitchen for food. There's half a bowl of potato soup that I brought home yesterday and as I warm that up in the microwave I butter a piece of bread.

Sherlock is standing at the door of the kitchen looking very puzzled. "John is my brother-"

Stopping him with my hand out and my voice louder than usual,"Shit, leave me alone. Sweet bloody hell, why do you always have to know everything except-oh, never mind. Just go away."

He continues to stand there as I get the soup out and try to balance soup, bread and some tea.

Taking the tea from me he steps into the front room and sets the tea on the table next to my chair.

          "Sherlock, if you don't mind I'd like to take this to my room and eat there. I'll come back for the tea."

I don't want his stare, his inquiring look, deducing what is happening in my head.

* * *

Without a word, he picks up the cup and saucer and proceeds me to my bedroom, putting the tea on my nightstand.

Turning to go out, he looks back at me, still unsure.

          "Goodnight Sherlock."

Nodding to me he leaves shutting the door behind him.

* * *

I blow out a breath of relief, removing my clothes to put on PJ bottoms and a pullover. Sitting on the bed, taking the soup bowl and balancing it on my lap I realize my laptop is downstairs. Damn!

I want to read the ebook I had on the laptop, not having any magazines to peruse.

I put the bowl on the nightstand and head back down.

* * *

Sherlock is on his mobile and turns away from me when he sees me. I can tell he's talking to Mycroft by the tone of voice. Hanging up and not looking at me my anger spills out.

          "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Why can't you leave well enough alone.?"

          "John, I'm trying to help-"

          "Go fuck, you and your brother. Yea, fuck yourselves. That would be good,"snickering at that.

Snatching the laptop I run out of the room and upstairs.

* * *

Now I don't feel like opening up the e-book. I eat the soup and bread and turn the light out.

What is this 'experiment' that Mycroft says Sherlock does?

Will he attempt it on me?

I've always thought Sherlock has had no interest in anything sexual. Finally, my eyes get heavy and sleep overtakes me.

* * *

All the next day at the clinic I can't stop thinking about this 'sex experiment'. 

Not relishing the idea of spending the evening with Sherlock I call Mike up to ask if he wants to hit the pub tonight.

He's busy, so I call Greg, but he's promised his wife to be home early.

I don't like sitting in a pub by myself.

* * *

Guess I'll head home and face whatever awaits me.

* * *

Sherlock is in a foul mood. He's lying on the sofa, hands steepled to his chin.

          "John, you must communicate to me what transpired between you and Mycroft."

          "Why must I? Why not ask him?" trying to figure out how to get away from this conversation.

          "Don't be ridiculous. You know he won't divulge any information."

I have no choice but to face this head on, my eyes blazing, anger stalking me, I squat in my chair, my hands holding tight onto the arms.

* * *

          "Okay you git, what are you planning to do to me? Mycroft suggested- something."

He immediately jumps up, hands rumple his hair, and walks behind my chair.

I turn sideways to look up at him.

          "I don't believe," his eyes staring straight ahead, "yes he would," that baritone voice deepening.

* * *

Rounding on me, peering down with those grey eyes, piercing me, "Did he examine you?"

My face flushes, he sucks in a breath.

* * *

          "Mycroft Holmes, sticking your nose in--," he almost screams it out.

          "That wasn't what was stuck in," trying to lighten the mood.

          "Are you going to use me as an experiment?"

          "No, John, not an experiment as he would have you think."

          "Then what was that about?"

* * *

Kneeling down, taking a hand of mine, he stares.

          "Focus on me, really scan me as hard as you can."

I look deep into those eyes, suddenly understanding.

My breath hitches out. Sherlock is- he's in love with me!

* * *

          "John, you're not an experiment, you're the person I want to lie with, to fornicate, to love."

          "I guess it was worth the humiliation with your brother to hear you say that to me. I mean the word love. Yes, it was worth it."


End file.
